


Yes

by Josselin



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, canon typical non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 11:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10763214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josselin/pseuds/Josselin
Summary: “We both remember what happened the last time we were in the garden,” said Laurent.The encounter with Ancel had been the furthest thing from Damen’s mind, but it came to the forefront with sudden force.“I didn’t--”“I could do that again,” said Laurent.





	Yes

Laurent’s eyes were narrow. “Watch how you speak to me.” It was a warning.

“You know that I am right,” said Damen. Damen kept his voice low. Laurent had dragged him off to a private corner of the garden when they had begun to quarrel, but there were only tall green hedges separating them from the remainder of the revelry. “Why will you not--”

“Quiet,” said Laurent. He dropped the fancy and useless golden chain connecting to Damen’s collar and it fell, hanging off of Damen’s neck.

“Or you’ll flay me alive?” said Damen. “For the trespass of daring to point out your error?”

“One of us is wearing a slave collar,” said Laurent.

“Wearing a slave collar doesn’t give you any power over me,” said Damen. He was taller than Laurent, and when they were both standing Laurent had to look up to meet his eyes.

“Sit,” said Laurent, pointing at the stone bench in the garden behind Damen. He said it in the same tone that he’d once told Damen to kiss his boot. Damen had swallowed his pride and done it, then, and it was easier now to sit down on a bench than it had been to do that on his knees. Damen sat.

“You’re right,” said Laurent, responding to his earlier comment as though he had not interrupted their argument with a command. “I have power over you even if you had a blacksmith take the collar off tomorrow.”

“That’s not--” said Damen.

“We both remember what happened the last time we were in the garden,” said Laurent.

The encounter with Ancel had been the furthest thing from Damen’s mind, but it came to the forefront with sudden force.

“I didn’t--”

“I could do that again,” said Laurent.

“Ancel isn’t here,” Damen said, off guard. Laurent had twisted things around again.

“That had nothing to do with Ancel,” said Laurent.

“You--” said Damen. Damen remembered Laurent seated next to him on the bench, carefully watching his expression and lecturing Ancel calmly on what he liked best. He remembered the tone of Laurent’s voice, cool and disinterested.

“I don’t need Ancel,” said Laurent. For a helpless moment, Damen pictured Laurent taking Ancel’s role and sliding gracefully to his knees in front of the bench. 

Damen frowned stubbornly. That was never going to happen. “No.”

Laurent took a step closer to the bench Damen was sitting on. His expression said that the idea was growing on him. He made a slight humming noise. “Yes,” said Laurent.

“You wouldn’t--” 

Laurent wore the same pleased expression he’d had when he won a bet with Nicaise. He arched an eyebrow and it seemed as though he knew everything that Damen was thinking. Damen was thinking of Ancel again. His hands weren’t tied up above his head as they had been in the bower. He could push Ancel away, grasp his fingers in the red strands of hair and pull him off. When he blinked his eyes closed the hair he pictured was blond. 

Damen kept his eyes resolutely open. 

Laurent laughed lightly. “I can. And I won’t even need to get my hands dirty.”

He did not say that because he planned to use his mouth. Damen set his jaw. If Laurent thought he could get Damen off with words alone, he was going to be disappointed. Damen was no desperate youth. Damen fixed his hands on the edge of the back of the bench, gripping the stone tightly.

Laurent cast an arch glance at Damen’s lap, where the silks that Radel had dressed him in were hiding nothing. “I can see that I am already having an effect,” said Laurent.

“No,” said Damen.

Laurent came a step closer to the bench. “What are you thinking about right now?” 

Damen was picturing strangling Laurent with the ridiculous golden chain that was still hanging from his collar. 

“You have all sorts of ideas of what you’d like to do to me, I’m sure,” said Laurent. He took another step closer, and then he straddled the end of the bench that Damen was sitting on as though it were a horse, and seated himself there. Damen held still as Laurent moved close. Laurent’s voice had the flirtatious tone he’d used with Torveld. “Which is winning? Violence or sex?”

Damen tried to tell himself that violence was winning, that what he really wanted was to knock Laurent out and somehow escape the palace unobserved, but other images were rapidly crowding into his thoughts. He thought of how Laurent’s body had looked in the baths. Laurent had not been aroused, Damen reminded himself. Laurent was not aroused now. Laurent was only enjoying this because he enjoyed torturing Damen.

Laurent was watching Damen with the same considering expression he’d used during the encounter with Ancel, as though Damen was a puzzle that Laurent was determined to figure out.

“A part of you likes this,” said Laurent. “Tell me, is it my body or my voice?”

Both, Damen thought helplessly, and he kept his lips tightly closed. 

Laurent did not seem to expect a response. He continued speaking in a conversational tone even though Damen did not reply. 

“Both?” said Laurent. “Are you picturing something pleasing?”

“Stop,” said Damen. Someone might come around to this corner of the garden at any moment. 

Laurent leaned closer. 

“I suppose it is hard to spend your nights tied up,” said Laurent. The word ‘hard’ echoed in Damen’s mind. “No opportunity to release yourself.” 

Damen thought that he could feel the brush of a piece of Laurent’s hair against his neck, but it might have been his imagination. 

“Though you’re not accustomed to taking care of it yourself, are you?” Laurent continued. “Do you think of one of those slaves, bowing and kneeling in front of you?”

None of this should have been arousing; Damen felt that his body was in some fashion betraying him. It was not going to matter, though. Damen was not going to finish untouched; Laurent was not going to actually bother to touch him. At some point Laurent was going to lose interest and return to his games with the rest of the court.

Laurent showed no sign of losing interest. He seemed full of creative ideas, and spent some words reflecting on the problems of Ancel’s cocksucking technique before a digression into a lecture to Damen on the size of Damen’s erection and how the feel of the silken slave garments must be against Damen’s over sensitive skin. 

“This is not going to work,” said Damen. His voice was terse.

“It’s already working,” said Laurent.

“No,” said Damen.

“Yes,” he said. “Touch yourself.”

Damen found his hand releasing the edge of the stone bench before he had made a conscious decision to move. “Begin lightly,” Laurent directed.

Damen hesitated with his hand over his lap.

“You’re modest now?” said Laurent. “Put your hand under the silks.”

The silks did not seem to affect Laurent’s ability to observe what he was doing. Laurent was terribly specific in his instructions. “More loosely,” he said, about Damen’s grip, and when a moment of rebellion hit Damen and he tightened his grip instead of loosening it, Laurent leaned in close enough that Damen could feel his breath on the side of his face. Laurent made a disapproving noise and grasped the chain hanging from Damen’s collar and wound it around one of his hands. He tugged it slightly, and Damen loosened his grip.

“That’s better,” said Laurent. “Continue. Slowly.”

Damen’s eyes drifted closed, but when his eyes were closed it was too confusing. He could hear the music and the noise of the party drift through the hedges. The flowers in the garden had a cloying perfume. Laurent’s voice coursed over him. He could almost imagine, when his eyes were closed, that Laurent were touching him--

Laurent directed Damen with the same cool precision he’d directed Ancel, full of specifics about the speed which Damen should use, and the pressure, and when he should stop and then begin again. Damen felt on edge. Laurent had the same technique he’d suggested to Ancel, of bringing Damen close to pleasure and then prolonging it.

“Rub your thumb on the slit,” Laurent said, and it was still hard to believe that it was Laurent next to him saying these words, and yet Damen found himself obeying, helplessly moving as Laurent told him to and waiting and listening for what Laurent would tell him to do next, until Laurent said, finally, “Now” and orgasm crashed over Damen at last.

He came back to himself rapidly, hearing again the noise of the party in the garden, his release covering his hand under the useless silks. He looked over at Laurent, suddenly.

Damen caught the flash of a smug smile for a second, Laurent pleased at having won his game after all, and then Laurent brought his expression under control and it was the same cool disdain he usually displayed to Damen.

Damen realized that he was not tied to the bench he was sitting on though he somehow felt that he was. There was nothing that prevented him from reaching for Laurent. 

Laurent seemed to come to the same realization at the same moment, and leaned away from Damen on the bench, and then stood up, taking a step backwards. He took another step backwards. He was still holding the chain to Damen’s collar in one hand; Damen didn’t move and the chain drew taut between them.

Damen removed his hand awkwardly from the silks in his lap. He couldn’t stop looking at Laurent. Laurent’s eyes were still on him. 

Damen stood up. He glanced around the corner of the garden. There was no one else there. The chain on his collar was still stretched between them. When he turned back to Laurent he could see Laurent doing the same cautious glance around and coming to the same realization that they were alone. Laurent dropped the chain, and it fell in front of Damen, swinging against his chest. 

Laurent took another step backwards. Damen took a slow breath in.

There was a twinkle of bells and both of them looked over as Nicaise emerged from under a hedge arch.

Nicaise was frowning; it seemed to be his usual expression. “What are you doing?” said Nicaise, looking from Laurent to Damen and back to Laurent to direct his question.

Damen looked to Laurent also, Laurent was looking evenly at Nicaise. “Nothing,” said Laurent.

Nicaise sniffed. “Your uncle wants you.”

“Does he,” said Laurent, but Laurent did not seem inclined to play games and make his uncle wait this time. Perhaps Laurent had already sated his desire for games that afternoon. “Shall we go and see him,” said Laurent, reaching out a hand toward Nicaise; he hadn’t extended a hand toward Damen in that fashion. 

Nicaise gave a scornful laugh and ignored Laurent’s hand, turning back to leave the way he came. Laurent followed. He hadn’t bothered to grasp the chain on Damen’s collar again as he left, but Damen followed regardless.

**Author's Note:**

> [check out the author's other Captive Prince fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=kudos_count&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&fandom_id=3516977&pseud_id=Josselin&user_id=Josselin), [ reblog on tumblr!](http://josselinkohl.tumblr.com/post/160127936617/yes-josselin-captive-prince-c-s-pacat)


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